Yay! I'm back for chapter 4! Thank you so much for your absolutely 100 purely wonderful reviews. They really do mean so much to me and help me get off my lazy $$ (or arse) and continue writing.

Actually I have a question for you, the readers,…should I include some Eomer/Lothiriel? I haven't really decided to or not, what is your input? Please let me know in a review, or an e-mail. Or, if I happen to be online, Yahoo IM me (my screen name is on my bio)

Disclaimer: All is property to Tolkien, not mine! I own Hamal and Windrod, which is IT. Don't sue, although you won't be getting much anyway…just an ancient computer, a half-trashed video card, my lotR collection (which is pitifully small), and an expired $5 replay certificate to Suncoast.

Notes/Warnings: a wee bit of violence, don't like skip over it. Also Aragorn makes his first appearance in this chapter. If you have not read the books, you may not know all of his different names so here is a quick guide to his alias: Aragorn, Elessar, Estel, Thorongil, Strider, and Dunadan. I left a couple out, but those are the main ones you will need to know.

AUTHOR'S APOLOGY: My gosh, I am so absolutely 100 sorry this took so damn long to get out. I mean I am really sorry. I have just been up to my ass and I needed a bit of a break and now I am up to my arse again in work. I began writing this right before finals at school, so I was preoccupied with them, and then when finals were over I went with my dad for three weeks with no internet access, then to New York City for a leadership summit for nine days, then I had a nice 10 day break for Harry Potter 6 (which was wonderful) and now I am back in band camp. So yeah, I just have been out of time. And now I have the sunburn from hell on the back of my knees (which are starting to blister and peel) and my nose.

Enjoy this chapter…

MXIXVXIXM

Near midday on the second day to Minas Tirith Eowyn was in a foul mood, treading across the plains in a very foul disposition. Not even Eomer dared to approach her, much less Theodred, Théoden or any of the Rohirim. She did not know the exact cause to her ill mood, but nor did she really care. Eowyn felt she had a right to be angry and upset, and by Valar, she would use it. A shadow loomed across her brow the entire day, and her mouth was in a thin line of irritation all day. She currently hated everything about everyone; how her brother always got the valor and she (much to her disdain) a sheer woman got nothing, Theodred's cheerful nature despite the current situation, the boldness of those Gondorian brats to come in and insinuate their 'orders' on everyone else, her uncle's lack of words at anything, Hamal's pleasant whistling, the off beat trot of Windrod, even the itchy wool dress she was forced to wear as it relentlessly assaulted her legs. Windrod too sensed his owner's short temper, and bad mood.

If only I was back home, she yearned. Eowyn knew that if she were back at Edoras, the normality of life would resume and she would be riding Windrod in pure bliss as the wind blew her long yellow tendrils. She would even endure the sight of Wormtongue if it meant she could return to the Riddermark. But alas, the sight of the banner baring the insignia of the White Tree held Eowyn firmly in reality.

Eowyn was truly dumfounded by her current situation. It was truly different than anything she had experienced before in her life. In all her years in Théoden's court, the issue of an arranged marriage, or being betrothed in general was never brought up, since it had never been an issue. Everyone had expected her to remain the cold Shieldmaiden of Rohan; it was a custom of Rohan that dated back, despite the fact that no one had bothered to write it down. Yet every generation of kings since the time of Errol there had been at least one unmarried woman in the House of Meduseld who met her death by the blade or at the beatings of a steeds hooves. Eowyn would have been more than proud to end her life in that manor, not some foreign spawn's meek little wife. In fact, that was the manor in which she had been brought up to live. She trained with her brother and cousin, fought with the men, and rode with the best of the Rohirim. Sitting like a quaint simple minded, silent and air-headed court lady was not her idea of a life. Life was meant to be free, to fly, to live—not to be the subject of a man's pride, duty, and ego.

Of course the White Lady of Rohan knew that her sibling and cousin would strive and test the very limits of their authority to keep her from being married off to Gondor, especially under the Lord Denethor's reign as Steward. She was well aware of the arguments made between Boromir and Eomer several days previous when Eomer had brought up the very valid point that she was not of age for the ceremony, or at least on Rohan's standards. A woman came of age at 20 winters, Eowyn had seen only 19 and in the middle of her 19th summer. She still had her final two seasons before any official ceremony could be held, permanently binding her to Gondor. Even Theodred had made it crystal clear that if it was necessary, he would take it upon himself to re-write agreement made by the House of Errol to Gondor. In that aspect Eowyn knew that she had the favoring hand, but couldn't help but ponder what would become of her future; thus adding to her already foul disposition that morning.

The previous evening, the second son of the Steward had caught her off guard; and it was a rare moment when Eowyn let her wall of protection loose. She scolded herself later that night for allowing it to fall, and in the presence of Gondor's younger Prince, the very cause of her disdain. Faramir may have known Elvish lore and tales of the Valinor, but it did little to ease her harsh and sharp view of him as well as his brother. Eowyn couldn't see herself bound to neither the former nor later. Nor did she wish to. The only man in her life that she gave to flips about was her brother, and that wasn't about to change, she vowed.

Up ahead Eomer and Theodred rode shotgun on two of the royal stallions. Neither one had much to say to the other, both having received the butt end of their Shieldmaiden's irritable attitude. Eomer had been her first victim in the morning after confronting his sister about her meeting with Faramir. In the end, Eomer gained nothing but a tongue induced lashing from his sister, and a trail of Windrod's dust in his face. Theodred had attempted a more hands on approach, but to little avail. The Prince of Rohan was too, left behind in the dust of Eowyn's mood, and at the mercy of Eomer's consistent wave of "I told you so". All in all, everyone was suffering from Eowyn's lack of enthusiasm, only some (i.e. Eomer, and Theodred) more than others. The Rohirim mustered for the mission to Minas Tirith had also received a verbal thrashing for persistently tailing their White Lady even after she spat out, "If you want someone to follow, follow them," she said acidly. Hamal immediately drew back, but the others were subject to another telling off by their Shieldmaiden.

"I wonder what happened to put Eowyn in such a foul mood," Theodred said, his head bobbing up and down as his horse trotted at a content pace across the plains.

"That," Eomer replied sourly, and pointed towards the two princes of Gondor with their banners billowing in the wind.

Eomer's response earned a chuckle from Theodred. "Why are you so harsh on them, when it's their fathers will that commands?" Theodred asked his cousin.

Eomer growled in annoyance. He hated it when Theodred had valid reason that outsmarted his own views. But Eowyn was his life. He would kill, and be killed for his sister. "If they did not support it all, they would have voiced it as such, and not been so cross when—," the third marshal began

"—when you decided to unleash the beast of Rohirim pride?" the prince of Rohan said, finishing Eomer's sentence. Theodred watched as a spark was lit in his cousin's grey eyes which told the young prince that he had definitely hit a nerve. Eomer said nothing in reply, so Theodred spoke again, "You should not be so quick to judge them. I have spoken to both of them in the council chamber. Alone, without father's presence," he pointed to the white spec that was Snowmane and Théoden-king.

A pregnant pause filled the air. "And?" Eomer responded impatiently.

"And…they both told me that neither one of them supports Lord Denethor's ambition of this unity. Albeit it was for personal reasons; the elder, Boromir, is skilled in the ways of war and the sword. He reveres politics and diplomatic manners with little reverence. This is really nothing more to him than a diplomatic quest. He says that he holds no patience in the skills of handling a woman," Theodred said with a careful choice of words. He purposefully left out the part when Boromir whispered to his brother, thinking that Theodred was out of earshot, 'especially one that prefers the company of a horse to that of a person. I doubt she feels any obliged to this than we do'. "Faramir, the younger, rarely deals with Minas Tirith and is problems in politics. He spends most of his days in Ithilien with the other Rangers," he finished.

"Yes, that all may be true. But it is not a debate of whether or not you are willing to do this. It is not up for debate! Everyone, in one sense or another, is obligated by this treaty. Granted Eowyn no doubt feels any different than they, or even we, do. She is bound by this agreement of old, as much, if not more, than anyone else is!" Eomer exclaimed. His fetal attempt to quell his voice and anger ended in vain. The third marshal held no doubts that everyone in the company, including his sister, had heard his words clear as day. And Eomer didn't care.

"You do have a point. But I think her actions last night are up for heavy argument," Theodred added mischievously. He had seen his cousin with the second son of Denethor. He could not hear their words, but neither one ended up with wounded pride or a blackened eye.

"Really? You would call her current disposition right now up for debate?" Eomer said sarcastically, pointing towards his sister behind him. The pair turned their heads, and Eowyn shot them daggers with her pale blue eyes. "I have no doubt that it is from that whelp," Eomer finished, redirecting their gaze to Faramir as his onyx hair blew back in the wind.

"Oh please! You never liked either of the Gondor princes from the moment you found them in the storm that night. Why must you always jump to the conclusion that they are to blame for every little thing? The other morning you said it was their fault that Eowyn rode off alone with Windrod so as to avoid them," Theodred laughed heartily, "you know was well as I do that she has done that ever since she was able to mount Windrod without him bucking her off in protest".

Eomer scowled at the truth of his cousin, prince, and friend's words of truth. But just because they were right, didn't mean that Eomer had to admit to it. He said nothing in reply, and just glanced coldly back and forth between his sister, who continued to shoot daggers at him, and the pair of brothers. In that moment, Eomer was put into the same foul mood that Eowyn was consumed in.

MXIXVIXIM

Further and further the company rode on until the sun began to kiss the hilly western horizon. Slowly but steadily, the countryside had become increasingly green instead of the everlasting fields of gold and orange, another tell-tale sign that Gondor was rapidly approaching. Théoden-king called a halt to his company, knowing that they would reach Minas Tirith by the following sunset. The march to the White City only took three days from the Riddermark, and he was in no mood to hasten to meet Denethor and hear his 'dire circumstances'. Théoden seriously doubted that his sister-daughter would be forced into the matter due to the fact that he would not enact the treaty if all Denethor had to present was the Orcs of Mordor running amuck in Gondor's lands. Rohan was currently dealing with more-or-less the same problem with Isengaurd, and the Orcs bearing the White Hand of Saruman. But that in itself was not enough invoke the agreement bestowed by Errol. The king had no doubt that if he did not stop the matter, then Eomer and his son would no doubt smuggle their beloved sister, and cousin away, or at least a valiant attempt would be made.

Théoden unseated himself from Snowmane and proceeded to aid the Rohirim around him in pitching the tents, and making camp for the night.

Boromir, Faramir and their legion of Knights made their own camp approximately a dozen yards away from the evergreen banner of the horse lords. None felt welcome, and always under the constant, untrusting gaze of the Rohirim. Neither sibling expected anything more or less. Boromir had dealt with Rohan and its issues in the past, and was well versed in their proud tradition. Faramir had little knowledge in dealing with the riders of the Riddermark, and went solely on the information that his elder sibling passed on to him.

Faramir chewed viciously on a piece of dried meat, his dinner for the remainder of the eve. Next to him, Boromir wore a scowl on his face and just stared absent mindedly into the crackle embers of the fire. The brothers were alone in their thoughts for the rest of the knights had gone off in search of fresh meat. Faramir would have given anything to accompany them, but his political duty bound him to his position of being adjacent to Rohan and its affairs. All day he had pretended not to notice the snide, and contempt ridden glances that Eomer, son of Eomund, had been throwing him all day but after a while it became boring and somewhat tedious not to say anything in return. Boromir simply returned them with equal animosity. All three participants knew they were acting childish and immature, but neither one really cared. "Well if this is any sign as to how father's plans will come about, then I want nothing to do with it," Faramir said with dark sarcasm.

Boromir chuckled in agreement. "I couldn't agree with you more," he replied in all earnest. "I cannot say how relieved I will be when this issue is over and solved," he added.

"Really? You will be glad if this marriage proposal is indeed arranged?" the younger son spoke sarcastically.

"Judging by the overall attitude by them," Boromir pointed towards Theodred and Eomer who were speaking with their Shieldmaiden, "even if, and heed that 'if', Théoden-king agrees to it her," he jabbed violently at Eowyn, "brother would fight to his last breath against it" the first-born finished.

"You are right in that. Either that, or she would run," Faramir added without any real thought thinking about his encounter with the Lady Eowyn the previous night. Despite the fact that they only spoke briefly, he could tell right from the get-go that she was a proud spirit and would not tolerate being bound to anyone or anything. She would be free, no matter what obstacle interwove in her path. Yet he felt an odd familiarity with the White Lady. Despite the fact that she was soft spoken, it just concealed the fact that she felt so much more than what she verbalized aloud. Faramir knew that, because he was much the same. It was most prevalent when dealing with his father, and wanting more than anything his affection and love. The second son of Denethor highly doubted that even Boromir was aware of that fact. And most certainly none of his fellow Rangers guessed that about their comrade. Faramir kept his personal feelings out his dealings in Ithilien. It made matters much less complicated.

Boromir was on the verge of answering his brother's statement, but a quick flash of motion against the golden horizon caught his steely eyes. "What's that?" he said. Faramir swung around and caught sight of what his elder sibling was focused on. Three dark figures lined the orange orb of the setting sun, all on horses. It couldn't be the four riders that had accompanied because they weren't due to return till the moon had risen, not to mention two of the trio of silhouettes were tall and slender, almost more feminine than masculine and their steeds were white, which the siblings could distinguish as they drew closer and closer.

Apparently the company from Rohan noticed them as well for a quartet of riders soon zoomed past the Gondor camp. Not to be ones left in the dark, both Faramir and Boromir mounted their geldings and followed suite. Both were armed with a sword and, Faramir, with a hidden bow and quiver ripe with arrows. It was not long before they slowed the steady trot of their horses and caught up with the green cloaked, armed and stout steeded Rohirim. Faramir and Boromir exchanged quizzical glances when they saw the three unknown riders. The two that bore features closer to that of a woman than a man were a pair of twin Elves. Their hair was dark, as was their eyes, both were male. Quivers of swan feathered arrows were clearly displayed against their backs and bows were strung from their shoulders. The third however was not an Elf, but a man. His skin was sun streaked from his many travels and his hair was a mixture of dark brown and black. Eyes of sea-grey eyes dotted visage, as did a line of shaggy brown stubble. It took a few moments for Faramir to realize that the man was actually Strider. He was not a frequent member of his Ranger party, but he had done some dealings together in acts against Mordor. Strider would often disappear for months and then suddenly re-appear whenever an imminent threat from Mordor arose.

"Thorongil!" exclaimed a rider that Faramir recognized as Hama, one of the king's gaurds and advisors. Hama bore a striking resemblance to Hamal. Faramir reckoned that they were from the same family, if not father and son. Strider bowed his head and smiled. "What brings you back to the kingdom of Rohan?" Hama inquired.

"Thorongil? Is that what you are called in the Riddermark?" Faramir said.

The man laughed. "Yes. King Thengel gave me that name in his youth. But I am still Strider," he said cheerfully. Turning then to Hama and the Rohirim, "Actually I have business in Rivendell. It is by mere chance that we meet up again," Thorongil said. "This is Elladan and Elrohir," he pointed to the twin elves, "the sons of Elrond".

Soon three more Riders joined the company, this time it was Théoden, Theodred and Eomer. "Thorongil, it is a pleasure to see you again! We have not seen each other in a great many years," Théoden-king greeted. Thorongil bowed his head in greeting, as did the two Elves, who remained silent but bore smug grins of mischief.

"It is by the will of Elbereth that we meet again," Thorongil replied.

"Please Thorongil; join our company for the eve. We have more than abundant supplies," Théoden invited.

Strider seemed more than happy to stay for the remainder of the night; glancing back at his two companions for their agreeing consent, they nodded cheerfully. "We would be grateful to be among your company tonight. But I must ask you, what brings you to the borders between Rohan and Gondor?" he questioned. "Even more, what brings to sons of the Steward to a host of Rohirim?" Strider added.

Immediately a gloomy, and in Eomer's case, hostile, atmosphere hit everyone as Théoden began to explain the current situation. Everyone had already begun to ride back to their proper camp. Faramir managed to sneak a weary glance at a lone figure in the distance on a grey steed with billowing yellow hair. There was no doubt that she had been eavesdropping on their conversation, but in a swift movement retreated back to her tent hoping that none had noticed her temporary absence. "Strange, it seems that I am the only one who has not met this Thorongil," Boromir said, drawing his brother's attention. "And why dose he have multiple names? Thorongil, Strider?"

"That one I do not know. I only knew him by Strider. He is a Ranger that I sometimes see in Ithilien," Faramir replied.

"Strange. Théoden-king said that his father, Thengel gave him the name Thorongil. But how is that possible since Thengel is long since dead. It would mean that he would have to be at least 70 years old, yet he doesn't look a day older than 30!" Boromir said.

"Of that I do not know. What do you say we indulge on their hospitality and find out?" Faramir piped mischievously. With Strider's appearance again, his interest was more than sparked, especially when Boromir had brought up the fact about his age.

Boromir gave a smug expression and kicked his horse in the direction of Théoden and his Rohirim. Faramir gave a cry of protest at his brother's head start.

..(MXIXVIXIM)..

Everyone ate inside of a grand looking, wool woven tent. A fire crackled happily in the center, spitting out small sparks in all directions. Eomer looked positively dangerous when he found out that the Steward siblings would be dining with them. "A connection to Thorongil my foot!" he confided in his sister, who strongly concurred. Theodred kept sweeping somewhat worried glances between Eomer, and the visitor from Gondor. The Prince of Rohan made darn sure that Eomer's weapon was safely tucked away in his own tent, 'Just in case,' he thought

A fore foot of a stag was roasting on the fire, as Théoden and Thorongil talked animatedly. The twin Elves mostly kept to themselves talking in a tongue that was foreign to everyone but themselves, save for Thorongil. The brothers seated themselves as far away from the Third Marshall as could be permitted without making it painfully obvious that they were avoiding him, as well as Rohan's prince and king, and most of all, Rohan's White Lady, who was situated adjacent to her brother and the pair threw them daggers at any given glance.

The overall talk was considerably muffled and in a varying degree of languages. Elladan and Elrohir continued to speak in Quenya. King Théoden and Thorongil conversed in the Common-Tongue, and a good deal of others stuck to their traditional language of Meduseld. Both brothers knew two of the three languages fluently, save for Quenya, but still found it odd for everyone sitting in a tent to be all speaking different tongues. Faramir could not help but notice that Eowyn's gaze rarely left Strider's the entire time, and apparently so did Elladan and Elrohir. They muttered something smugly in Elvish. The only word that Faramir clearly caught was the word "Undomiel" which he knew to mean Evenstar. Thorongil immediately ceased his talk with Théoden and threw both twins dirty glances, to which they smirked between each other.

Faramir was slightly puzzled by the expressions exchanged between Strider and his companions. Whenever Mithrandir mentioned the story of Beren and Luthien, he would always describe the Elven Princess as Undomiel, the Evenstar of her people. And that all her decedents would be known as such. But what did that have anything to do with the unceasing gaze of Eowyn at the Ranger and smirks of the Sons of Elrond? After a few more minutes of pondering the subject, it was quickly pushed from Faramir's head at the sound of his name.

"Lord Faramir!" someone exclaimed. He looked around to see Theodred laughing. "I called you three times. Your mind was clearly not in here," he laughed.

Faramir retained his composure, despite the fact that he had been caught off guard. "I'm sorry. You are correct, I was carried away in my thoughts," he responded lightly. The twins chuckled merrily.

"As I was saying, when do you expect to reach Minas Tirith?" Theodred inquired.

This time it was Boromir who answered, "Around sometime tomorrow evening. We are nearing Osgiliath, and after that it is only a short tred across the Pelennor to reach Minas Tirith".

"I didn't think we were so close," Theodred mused casually, but glanced at Eowyn who in turn scowled at the floor.

"Yes, I passed Minas Tirith only yesterday morning," Strider responded.

Faramir said nothing. Gazing at Eowyn, a great wave of pity washed over him at the woman who would meet her fate in just one mere day.

SIXIVIXIS

Thorongil, Elrohir and Elladan left the following morning before the sun rose, leaving the rest of the company to their dreams.

MXIXVSVIVSM

END CHAPTER.

Again, I am sooososososossososososososossosososo sorry that this took so freaking long to get out.

I wrote the entire thing in one day, hoping that it would make up for my extended period of absence. I know this chapter was a bit shorter, but there really wasn't much more I could say in this chapter, which is part of the reason why it took me so long to get the urge to just finish it. The end is kind of rushed, but I have a band concert I need to perform in tonight so I needed to hurry and wrap everything up. So don't flame me about that. All flames will be read, laughed at, and deleted.

Please R&R, and let me know your opinion on adding in a bit of Eomer/Lothiriel

Elen sila lumenn' omtielvo

Narya